


General Mustang's Emotional Pyre

by darkponds



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings, He plays matchmaker, Mild Blood, Needles, Not that anyone is surprised, Post-Canon, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, a smart shit though, ed being a shit, impractical uses of flame alchemy, riza wears the pants, some romance in the midst of all the angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkponds/pseuds/darkponds
Summary: Brigadier General, Roy Mustang has hit a stalemate. He’s stuck with personal feelings for his subordinate that he won’t act on and he feels that he is not advancing or improving in his alchemic skills. He thinks he’s handling it until a surprise visitor shows up for the first time in three years with a book of dangerous secrets and some shitty romance advice.





	1. combustible research materials

**Author's Note:**

> i've written a few fmab fics and never actually finished them. i think this one is worth sticking to. please tell me what you think!!

Being Brigadier General is boring. Well, not completely boring. Not all of the time. It’s tiring is the thing. All the dirty work that he had to do as Colonel is really not in the playbook anymore. Sure, giving orders is way easier that constantly having to put your ass on the line for your subordinates. But it still doesn’t beat all the time he had with them.  It seems like he barely has time for anything anymore.

He wants time for himself. He wants time for his alchemy, because he’s so rusty lately. And he wants time for his _girlfriend?_ He doesn’t even know if he can assume such a thing.

It feels odd to associate her with the word girlfriend. It feels a little different than any other girlfriend he’s ever had. He’s only had two, but they still count towards girl experience.  But this, this was completely different. She’s more that a girlfriend. She’s really his everything. She’s stuck by him since day one. She gave him the secrets encrypted on her back that worsened her and her father’s estrangement.  She had his back through it all. She continuously puts her life on the line for him. From the moment they enlisted in the military she couldn’t let him out of her sight.

Sometimes he doesn’t know how to let her know how grateful he is. They’re not emotional with each other. Not out loud. It’s an unspoken bond. He doesn’t have to tell her. Anyway, she’s not like other women. If he went beating around the bush with questions like _what are we_ , she’d probably get annoyed and resort to rolling her eyes. She might even point her gun at him.

He thinks maybe he’s waiting for something to happen between them. They decided it was better to live together. They’re always worried about each other and this was just better. His title as Brigadier General allows him to live with his subordinate because it’s easy to cover it up from the higher-ups.  He figures they think he’s trustworthy as hell and wouldn’t bother to scope him out.

He likes living with her. She’s always home first. He likes walking through the door of their apartment late at night and seeing her sleeping on the sofa. She won’t go to bed until he gets home. That’s what he suspects. It’s the same every night. He takes off his coat and removes his gloves. He gently slips his arms underneath her peaceful form and hoists her up from the sofa. He walks down the hall into her bedroom and tucks her in. He’s surprised she never wakes up. Maybe she does and just doesn’t let him know.

Hayate lifts his head up from the mat in the corner of her room to stare at Roy for a moment, then goes back to sleep.

He likes doing it. But he still wished she wouldn’t stay up for him. She needs her rest. She works just as hard he does, maybe even more. Tomorrow is a new day. Maybe he can bring it up at the office when no one is around.

He leaves her bedroom and quietly goes to his own. He’s too tired to change into sleep clothes. So he strips down to his pants and hits the mattress with an exhaustion he hadn’t known the severity of until he lays down. Falling asleep is easy.

 

* * *

 

It’s 05:00 When Riza is nudging him awake. They usually get to headquarters by 06:30, but he likes to wake up at 04:00. She’s dressed in a thick coat. She has her boots on and snow on her shoulders. She went out somewhere.

“Your alarm didn’t go off.” She states plainly.

“Shit.” He swears automatically as he lifts himself from the bed hurriedly. He hits the shower.

He tries to enjoy the hot water rushing over his body but it’s short lived because he’s in a rush. He tries not to think about how much paperwork he has to do as he dresses himself in uniform. Maybe he can convince Riza to do some of last week’s report reviews. Or maybe not.

When he comes out into the kitchen space, Riza is in uniform with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. He notices that it’s getting rather long. He wonders when she’s going to cut, or if she’ll ever cut it again.  She’s holding two mugs of coffee and she holds one out to him. He smiles at her warmly as he takes it. He still doesn’t know where she went this morning. He doesn’t really want to ask. It might be none of his business. He _hates_ how careful he is with her.

His eyes shift as he takes the first sip. He’s fixated on Hayate eating out of his bowl and takes too big of a sip, burning his tongue.

“Ow, Ow.” He hisses, and puts the mug down on the table spilling a little.

“The human flamethrower burns himself with _coffee._ ” Riza teases with a chuckle.

He rolls his eyes and sits down at the table. There’s an old glass jar of flowers there that weren’t there when he came home last night.  They’re fresh Hellebores, purple and white. The dew is still present on the petals.

“Did you pick these this morning?” He asks her. It’s not too nosy of a question.

She doesn’t answer with words. She sits down at the table adjacent to him and mumbles a simple “Mmhm.”

He’s was going to ask why but she thankfully beats him to it.

“I… miss her today.” She says quietly, and then sips her coffee. She’s not sad though, just nostalgic. He can tell the difference.  She can’t help it. Once a year she picks them, sometimes twice if she thinks about her a lot. It’s hard for a girl not to think of her mother.

He’s not good at comforting people. But somehow he manages with Riza. He takes her hand and squeezes reassuringly.

“We should get going.” He tells her.

She nods with an easy smile. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

He thinks this country will be the _death of him._ Quite literally. He was sure when he first got his certification as a state alchemist that he would die at war. But now he’s absolutely sure that it’s going to be death by paperwork. Stacks and _Stacks_ of it.

His office doesn’t start to feel warm until about 10:00. The heater has to run for about three hours before the temperature consistent. He could probably tinker with the heater to get it to work better. Riza forbid it in worry that he might, quote, “blow the place up.”

So its 08:45 and he’s fucking freezing.

The phone rings once before he picks it up.

“Mustang.” He huffs out.

“General Mustang,” Riza starts, “I have a visitor request for you. Security checks are complete. If you have a moment, it appears to be urgent.”

He doesn’t really get visitor requests on such short notice, so this is rather odd. He usually knows who he’s expecting days in advance.

“Who put in the request?” He asks her. There’s a pause of silence with some static.

“It’s Fullmetal, sir.” She finalizes.

He suddenly can’t say anything. It’s been _three_ years. Three years since he saw the kid. He feels a little dizzy with the thought of seeing him again. It feels like he’d be seeing a ghost. He feels like Edward Elric is someone from another _lifetime_. He would be lying if he said he knew what to expect from him. Riza is still waiting for his answer.

Shit.

“Send him in, Lieutenant.”

 

* * *

 

 

Riza has a big smile on her face when she escorts Edward through Roy’s office door. She always did like his company. She probably missed him. Hell, Roy missed him.

The first thing he notices as he gets up to shake his hand is how fucking _tall_ he is. He’s shocked to say the least. He’s definitely not a child anymore, not even a little bit. His hair is still as long as ever, secured in a ponytail. He’s wearing a thick brown winter coat and holding a worn out Suitcase.

“Brigadier General, huh?” Edward Smiles.

“Fullmetal. The military misses you.” He says formally and predictably. He should probably get a feel for him before the bickering starts. It’s been so long.

“Good,” Edward replies, attempting to fill the room with chatter, “Cause I was think about re-enlisting as a state alchemist.” He finishes.

They’re silent. Riza’s not smiling anymore and Roy can’t find his words.

“I’m just kidding!” Edward exclaims with laughter. “Geez, Your faces. Shit.”

All the air rushed out of Roy’s lungs. “You _Idiot.”_   He says. Looks like he’s the same as ever. An idiot. Not funny, but thinks he is.

“I’ll leave you two, then.” Riza deadpans, unamused. She slams the door behind her making them both flinch.

“You two are the same.” Edward says, plopping on the couch. “except for that thing on your face.”

“My mustache?” He asks, irritated. He sits back at his desk, running a nervous hand through his hair.

“It doesn’t work for you. It’s gotta go.” He laughs.

He might have forgotten just how _annoying_ he could be.

“What was so urgent?” He asks. He hasn’t forgotten how short notice all of this is. It must be important for Edward to just _show_ up.

“I’ve found something that I think you might be interested in.” Edward tells him, suddenly going serious.

“I’m listening.” He says to urge Edward on.

He takes a deep breath.

“I spent a lot of time in the west and I decided it was time to pay my brother a visit. So I made my way to Xing. I took a little detour on the way.”

He sets his suitcase on the coffee table. Roy waits for him to continue.

“My father spent the majority of his life researching alchemy. Being immortal for so long gave him all the time in the world. He had multiple places of study throughout the world and he hid his secrets wherever he saw fit. One of those places was the Lost Kingdom of Xerxes.”

“What are you getting at, Ed?” He hastens.

Edward Clicks open the two latches on each side of the suitcase and pulls out a large leather pouch with a zipper on the side.

“The Ishvalans started some excavation work in the capital but left it unfinished. I thought, why not?”

“And you found something.”

Ed nodded. He unzips the pouch and reveals a large leather-bound book.

“Practitioners of Flame alchemy are sparse I’m sure you know.” Edward stands up and strides over to Roy’s desk, dropping the book down in front of him. Right on top of the offending paperwork. “But this is different. This is something else.”

The book has the familiar transmutation circle that adorns Roy’s pyrotex gloves engraved on the front cover. Assumingly in case the book needed to be incinerated. The information it contains is likely no joke.

He opens it, fingers shaking a little. Ed waits for him to read.

===

_Flame alchemy is by far one of the most dangerous forms of alchemy. The alchemist must be focused, clear-headed, and patient._

_Before performing any form of flame alchemy the alchemist must first understand the exothermic chemical process of combustion, releasing heat, light, and various reaction products._

_When the flames are transmuted, the person performing the oxidation will act as the material. It requires an immense amount of energy and focus to channel the flames into a specific location. For example: A collection of constant energy must be utilized in order to channel the fire into the palm of your hand rather than accidentally setting your hand aflame from the dependent resource._

_To make the oxidation possible, it must first be practiced on something that could easily undergo any form of the exothermic chemical process, such as dry wood or paper. When this becomes a natural ability that is completed with practiced ease, the individual may try centralizing the harnessed energy into a specific form or shape. The flame may then be wielded as a weapon or tool would._

_ _

_  
_ **_(Reference Figure: Transmutation circle for Flame Alchemy.)_ **

_The transmutation circle for fire serves as the medium between the energy necessary to complete the transmutation and the actual deed itself._

===

“Ed, this is basics.” He says, unimpressed.

“ _Keep reading.”_ Edward urges.

He looks back and turns the page.

===

_Without the circle, it is not impossible to create the desired outcome; however it is highly unlikely and has only been done once on record._

===

Roy winces. No circle. He doesn’t need it anymore. Hasn’t for years. Not since the battle three years ago. He just continues to use it because it’s what he’s used to.

===

_To attempt it without this tool is a very trying and rigorous process._

_It is commonly suggested to carry the symbol in some projectable form on your person in order to avoid drawing it upon every alchemic presentation. A piece of clothing that corresponds with area of alchemic energy is the most practical way to achieve this. However it may be removed from you and leave you defenseless against possible danger. In cases like this something more permanent is just as effective if not more. The circle may be tattooed on an individual if they so see fit. It is common knowledge that ink underneath the skin is permanent and immovable._

_ _

**_(fig.1: Electrical Tattooing Device; fig.2: Profile View of device.)_ **

_In regards to the mentions of tattooing alchemic symbols onto the skin, Alchemists should proceed with caution. They must have immense knowledge and expertise in their studies so they do not lose control during the oxidation process. Oxidation is considered a stage of deconstruction by various standards. As the molecules change, the alchemist runs the risk of oxidation of material within the body._

_When the discipline is received it is widely know that you cannot produce flame from this air without first altering the temperature of the space. To create this effect quickly, some sort of tool must be used to ignite. The obvious choice would be something such as a match or a simple mechanical lighter. There are other materials that when struck by another specific material may spark or ignite._

_To produce the necessary temperature without these tools has been attempted and successful on three accounts._

_Said attempts will be recorded and dated here in immense detail within the following pages._

_Van Hoenheim June 4 1891_

 

===

What this text is essentially suggesting is to perform flame alchemy without ignition. It’s suggesting that flame can be created using pure will. It’s suggesting that the energy necessary to create the flame can be generated within the body and released at the point of ignition just in time for the individual to avoid setting their entire form aflame.

 

It makes Roy incredibly uneasy.

 

“Fullmetal,” He starts, “Are you proposing that I _attempt this?”_ His voice is dark. The introduction to the research put him off. It all sounds so… forbidden.

 

“Why else would I be here?” Edward asks. His tone suggests that there’s nothing more important right now than presenting this information to Roy. “Oh don’t give that look, you are so intrigued right now.”

 

“Don’t you have something else that requires your attention? You’re gone for years and then you show up in my office with this _insanely dangerous_ proposal?”

 

“Yes, there are plenty of things that require my attention, Mustang. I have a Family, and _children,_ and responsibilities to my work and my _research._ But if you haven’t noticed the one thing that I research is the one thing I can’t fucking _perform_ anymore. So here’s the deal. You’re helping me by letting me help you.”

 

Roy thinks for a second. He’s still reeling from the fact that Edward has children. He understands why Edward wants to do this. There’s no one else that can help him with this. There’s no other person they know of that can perform flame alchemy, let alone without a transmutation circle.

 

“What makes you think I want to peruse this?” The question is more of a test for Edward than anything.

 

“I know you do. But if you want to deny yourself, by all means, I’ll leave you to your paperwork.”Edward says knowingly. He knows him so well even after all this time.

 

It’s infuriating.

 

In his head he’s already agreed.

 

“When do you want to start?”

 

“As soon as possible.”

 

“Where are you going to stay?”

 

Edwards eyes shift around and he gives a nervous smile. “With you?”

 

Roy rolls his eyes. “Come back at 19 hours.”

 

Edward practically _skips_ out of his office. He has a feeling that Riza is not going to like this one bit.

 

Edward left the book. Roy turns the page to read on with the feeling that he won’t get much work done today.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. eighty five percent combustible, one hundred percent emotionally-challenged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step one is to take baby steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but i'm having a lot of fun writing this :)

They should start small. There is no reason not to. They don’t have a deadline so they should take their time. Roy is in a rush to make things happen for himself but he’s trying to make sure no one really knows that. He’s trying to be subtle about it.

 

Riza still has no clue. That’s fine for now because maybe she’ll find out in a way where it won’t be a big deal. Maybe he can make it look like it’s not a big thing and then she’ll hardly even flinch when the topic comes up.  But then he remembers that Edward is going to be involved and nothing is ever _not a big deal_ with Edward.

 

And oh _that’s right_ he still hasn’t mentioned to her that he’s allowed Edward to stay with them. He doesn’t really know how she’s going to react. But he’ll find out soon. Edward and him have left the office and they’re heading back to Roy’s place. Riza won’t be home for another couple of hours. Usually it’s the other way around but he left early, which he never does.

 

He waits at the kitchen table for Edward. He’s over by the counter. There are all sorts of things he’s pulled out of his suitcase. None of them are your usual travel items. He’s mixing something together in a glass flask and various other containers with water and different densities of what looks like… _concrete_.

 

He works for about twenty minutes before Roy asks him what the hell he’s doing. It looks like he’s almost finished now.

 

“What exactly is that?” He’s asks Ed.

 

He’s pouring everything into one final container indicating that he’s finished. He shakes it. Once. Twice. He holds it out to Roy to take out of his hands.

 

“Magnesium oxide mixture.”

 

Roy is still looking at him questioningly. He doesn’t know what Edward wants him to do with it. There isn’t much he _can_ do with it.

 

“It’s diluted to the point of consumable.”

 

“I’m _not_ drinking that Ed.” He’s not. No way in hell does he trust it.

 

“Well we can try your other end but I don’t think you’d like that too much.”

 

And Roy can’t even formulate a response at that.

 

Ed’s eyes keep shifting from Roy’s face to the jar of flowers on the table. They’re frowning a little now. He puts the flask in front of Roy and sits down at the table. He holds one of the hellebores petals in his fingertips. Roy notices he’s using the arm that hasn’t been around as long as the other one.

 

“Flowers, Mustang?” He questions softly.

 

He doesn’t answer. He hasn’t told Edward that Riza lives here also. She should be home soon. That should be fun. He just shrugs, hoping it’s a good enough answer. He picks up the flask and downs the murky liquid with his eyes shut tight. He tries not to taste it but it undoubtedly feels like tar going down his esophagus.

 

“WHY?” He can’t help but cough. “Why is this necessary?!”

 

Edward still is focused on the flowers. He looks like he’s daydreaming, not paying attention. “You’re 83 percent oxygen and carbon.”

 

“I know that! And?” He’s still coughing. He looks at the flask. There’s still a swig left. He’s not doing it.

 

“And that sounds pretty combustible to me.”

 

Roy knows logically that there is no formula that Edward can come up with change the structure of his body. Nothing legal anyways. But as far as he understands the purpose of this liquid is to put forth a ridiculous amount of magnesium in the body. Hopefully not enough to poison him.

 

Roy feels dizzy all of the sudden. _Really_ dizzy. And his head hurts. This is very similar to the start of his PTSD episodes that he experiences on occasion.

 

“You’re blood pressure is probably going to rapidly drop during these sessions.”

 

“We… we’re doing this again?” He sighs tired and worried.

 

“Be prepared to chug salt water.” Edward jokes.

 

And it’s _so_ not funny. Roy hates his stupid fucking science humor.

 

“And you might experience slight confusion temporarily. And it’s likely that your cardiac rhythm will change, and you’re mind will trick you into thinking it’s a heart attack. It’s not, so stay focused and don’t panic.” Edward says to him matter-of-factly.

 

But it’s too late. He’s panicking just _thinking_ about it. He’s breathing hard.

 

“Roy, are you going to freak out on me? Don’t freak out.” He practically begs.

 

It’s too hot in the room and he can’t stand to be in his coat any longer. He stands up with haste and shucks it from his body and hangs it sloppily on the chair he was sitting it.

 

The door unlocks and clicks and open when Roy least expects it. And Edward doesn’t expect it at all.

Riza comes through the door holding a couple of brown paper grocery bags. When she sees Ed she pauses.

“Edward.” She says pleasantly, “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

He eyes shift over to Roy’s rigid form. He’s positive that he’s still breathing hard and possibly even sweating. He’s still so dizzy, and he’s definitely slouching. Maybe he should sit down again.

Riza takes in the sight of him and knows something is up. Something is seriously wrong. She’s never been one to jump to conclusions or be unnecessarily impulsive, but sometimes it just comes out of her.

She drops the grocery bags on the coffee table in front of the sofa; she doesn’t take her eyes off of Edward. He’s never seen her look at him like that before.

“Is everything alright?” She says voice a little wobbly. “What are you two doing?”

“He’s _fine.”_ Edward stresses lightheartedly.

Roy can’t really seem to imagine what could running through Riza’s head right now. She could really be thinking anything.

“He’s fine, I promise,” Ed says when he sees the sincere expression of worry painted on her face. Her face softens slightly at his words but she doesn’t look satisfied until Roy’s sitting and breathing easier. “A mini PTSD Episode.”

Roy rolls his eyes. Though similar, his episodes are immeasurably worse than that.

She doesn’t buy it but she’s not objecting. It’s awkward to say the least. It’s been three years, which by some people’s standards is not that much, but for them it seems to be. It’s almost like they don’t know how to act around him. Because he’s not a child anymore. He’s an adult.

“Wait a second!” Edward yells out when Riza starts to  put groceries away. They look at him. They wait.

“Are you two shacking up?!” He points an accusing finger at Roy as if to say, ‘how could you not tell me?’

At then it occurs to the both of them that is really is the same old Edward even though he’s a head taller and a bit broader and, well, _married._ But they both find that it makes him even more charming than he used to be, in the most unorthodox way of course.

“No.” Riza laughs. “No, Edward it’s nothing like that. He just makes for an awful roommate. I’m the only one in Amestris that can live with him without committing mass murder.” She smiles with a sarcastic twinkle in her eye before turning back to her previous task.

“Oh…” Edward says slowly. He’s looking as Roy’s dejected expression. He expected some banter between them for a moment or two after her comment. But Roy just sits there quiet and pensive. It’s making Edward uneasy. Roy doesn’t look like himself when he makes that face.

He elbows him hard, he’s not sure if it hurt him or not, hard to say. But it got his attention.

 _“What_?” Roy whispers sharply.

Edward doesn’t say anything because there’s nothing to say, he just felt the need to do that.

“Oh no, I’ve forgotten the carrots.” Riza sighs.

“Carrots?” Edward questions. More like he’s questioning the carrots themselves.

“You ever had stew without carrots?” Riza deadpans.

“Uh.”

“I’ll be back,” she sighs.  And before she shuts the door behind her she shouts, “Don’t do anything _stupid_ while I’m gone!”

When the door slams shut Edwards turns his head to Roy so fast he could have given himself whiplash.

“What in the _hell_ was that, Mustang?”

“What-” He coughs, “What- The hell was w-what?”

“Your new title is General sad-constipated face.” Ed jokes tastelessly.

“What are you even talking about?” He asks, unenthused.

“I thought by now, you two would definitely be an item.” Ed averts his eyes as he mumbles the words.

“Shut _up,_ Fullmetal.” Roy gets up and it seems like he can stand okay now.  He goes to the cupboard for a glass that he quickly fills with water from the tap and promptly chugs it.

“I’m just saying that-”

“Stop while you’re ahead,” He interrupts him. “You don’t know anything about it so… just leave it.” Roy mumbles.

“God this is so weird.” Ed says tonelessly. “Is it because you won’t make a move? It’s because you won’t make a move, huh?”

“No, it’s because I’m the brigadier general and she’s my subordinate. It’s because she knows me better than anyone else, so this is enough.” And that’s hardly an excuse, considering they _live_ together.

Ed realized this is the most Roy has ever opened up to him in his life, even if it’s just a few words. But still, Ed isn’t satisfied.

“Okay.” Ed says, standing up. “Well, when it’s not enough anymore… I’m an open book of advice.”

“I’m sure.” Roy mocks.

* * *

 

That night, Ed sleeps on the couch. Riza gives up on cooking for the third time that week because she just _can’t_ cook and she should stop trying.

She checks on Roy before she goes to her room. He’s breathing evenly, halfway covered. It’s a habit of his. She looks at his strong form. He doesn’t sleep with a shirt. She briefly gazes across his toned form and then looks up to his face. Even it sleep it tends to look disgruntled.

“I need you to be alright.” She whispers, absolutely sure that he can’t hear her. “Please be alright.”

She plants a soft kiss, feather light and barely there to his cheek.

She goes to bed with a worried heart.


	3. in which the general is in danger of being labeled as a basket case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are starting to get a little too real for roy. so he sort of panics. again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these chapter titles lmao  
> i realize i haven't really payed much attention to this story. i have other stories going on that are very time-consuming. but this one is so much fun to write i'm gonna start working on it more. psa: this is purely for my fma feels... there's not really a deeper meaning in anything I've written in this story.

Roy knows that Edward is always somehow, without a doubt, complicit with whatever chaos ensuing in the area. Not morally of course, but in the eyes of the law he usually runs a free-for-all shit-show, for lack of a better term. So as Roy watches Edward lazily comb his hair on the sofa, and side-eyes Riza making her morning coffee, he gets a headache from his own thoughts. Well, it could be a headache. He’s not really sure. It could actually be paranoia, or anxiety… or both. It’s definitely nausea for sure and it’s got to be from that magnesium. He groans in distress not really caring who can hear him. In fact maybe he’s hoping someone does hear him. He doesn’t know why because he doesn’t think he’ll get a very comforting reaction.

Edward finishes by tying his long golden hair up in his usual ponytail. He strides over to the kitchen visibly trying not to crowd Riza as he fetches a glass from the cupboard. When he places the glass in front of him, it appears to be water but it’s _cloudy._

He watches Riza carefully for a reaction before he speaks. “What the hell is this?”

“ _Water_.” Edward answers quickly.

Lie. He chugs it regardless. It’s _Salt. A lot of salt._ He keeps himself from coughing to avoid attention. His face probably gets a little red. He thinks Edward is doing this in front of Riza on purpose so That way he can’t say anything to oppose him. The cat would be out of the bag.

“I hate you.” He says.

“Nausea is gone though. Isn’t it?”

He waits quietly. The dizziness is gone. He doesn’t feel like puking. It’s progress.

“Have to balance it out.” Edward says like an afterthought. Riza runs around and places two mugs of coffee in front of each of them. She turns to sip her own mug as she eyes the glass of cloudy water.

“Balance what out?” She inquires, looking at them accusingly. Is he _trying_ to give it away? Roy doesn’t get it.

“Magnesium.”

“Why are you taking magnesium?” She doesn’t waste time asking. Her eyes are narrowed and his heart rate picks up a little with the thought that this could be the start of a potential _lie._ And the one thing he can’t do is lie to her.

“Deficiency.” He says curtly. He mentally winces at how the single word comes out of his mouth. He can see the amused smirk on Edwards face and he is not _okay with this._

She is silent for a moment. She sips her coffee thoughtfully. She nods in that scary way like she’s about to tell him off.

“You haven’t been to a doctor in two years even though I’ve all but bribed you into it. Edward shows up and all the sudden you have a _deficiency_?” It’s clear she’s not buying it.

“Well,” Edward starts only to be cut off.

“Shush, Ed.” She snaps and keeps her attention on Roy. He tucks his lips in, feeling dangerously in the middle of the beginning of a quarrel. It a weird he almost feels like he’s stifling a laugh.

“Medical Doctors are quacks.” Roy says uncharacteristically. “I’d rather have an alchemic doctor.”

“And Edward fits the bill for that?”

“He’s more than capable.” Roy reasons.

She looks between them, back and forth. Once, twice. Ed is sporting a non-comital smile. Roy’s face is immovably neutral.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Is the last thing she says before she exits the kitchen to her bedroom.

Roy waits until she’s positively out of hearing range before he shoots Edward daggers though his gaze.

“What?” Edward asks innocently.

“What are you trying to _do?”_ Roy yell-whispers.

“Test you.”

“Oh my god you-” He rolls his eyes. “ _For what?”_

Edward shifts a little in his seat. He starts to drag his finger across the wooden table in patterns that look like transmutation circles. It’s clear that it’s an absent-minded gesture. He looks like he’s thinking about what to say. This is strange for Edward because he always knows what to say and he doesn’t really waste any time doing so.

“I guess I was curious how close you two really are.”

“ _Okay_?” He’s annoyed with him because it feels like prying. And if it isn’t prying it feels like ridicule. “And your verdict?”

“Not as close as I originally thought.”

“If you’re trying to make a point, I’m missing it here.”

“Clearly.” Edward mocks.

Edward has finished his coffee and he gets up to pour it into the sink and promptly rinse out the mug. Roy waits for the follow up.

“It took me a really long time,” He starts speaking without turning around. Roy doesn’t like how he’s trying to avoid the eye contact that a conversation like this probably needs. “It took me a long a long time open up to Winry. Longer than it needed to take. So… When I finally did all I could think of was how much time I wasted _not doing it_.”

It’s quite the thing to say. He wants to be thoughtful about it and respond accordingly with an equally eloquent and heartfelt statement. But that’s not what comes out because he’s an idiot.

“You two are young.” He says, like it’s supposed to mean something to Edward.

Edward finally turns to finally face him. “Wow.”  His fingers tap against the bottom edge of the countertop. “And you two are old.”

“Um.”

“So last I checked you’re running out of time, you idiot.”

He’s at a loss. He hates that. But even more so he hates when Ed is right and he is wrong.

 

* * *

 

It’s their day off. It’s their first day off in what feels like eons. Riza has gone to see a friend and he finds himself left with not much to do. Roy thinks that maybe he’s slightly jealous of Edwards’s occupation. Gathering research is probably challenging enough, but it’s better than babysitting the country. He knows he can’t complain, not if he wants the big seat up top. It might take him several more years, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get there. He promised himself. And he promised others as well. Most importantly… he promised the Ishvalans.

It’s hard to appear as an ally, given his past action. Though everything he did was under oath and purely because his allegiance to the country, it unfortunately doesn’t justify anything. He knows that now. He faces scorn from some of the older generation. Luckily, Miles talks him through it. He reminds him that if intentions remain the same, then the end result will aid in not so much washing away the massacre, but replacing it with something good. Something better. 

Sometimes he wants to forget it ever happened. But he knows that not fair. Sometimes he wants to talk about it with Riza. But he knows that she might not want to. Then again he’s never tried.  He has these thoughts a lot. He worried day in and day out. He’s not good at hiding it anymore. It seems near impossible. Someone always notices. And if Riza notices, she doesn’t say anything.

Edward notices. He notices so easily that it’s damn near irritating. He tells him that He has to pick up a couple of things downtown Central City for this project of theirs, and that he should go have a drink to loosen up a bit. He’s hesitant because it’s slightly worrying considering the kind of people that you run into downtown. And if he’s telling him to go have a drink then he’s definitely up to something that Roy isn’t going to like.  He knows Ed can handle himself, but that’s not the issue. The issue is what he’s picking up. Edward is pretty resourceful so he isn’t really sure what else they need.

He feels something in his gut when Edward bursts through the taverns swinging doors an hour and a half after he left him there. He thinks it might be fear. He feels a little out of his depth when Edward takes the seat empty seat next to him setting down some suspicious looking brown paper bags.

He orders a half-pint and then finally turns to Roy.

“Has the General ever worn a turtleneck?”

Roy blinks. Was that supposed to be a greeting?

“Excuse me?” He asks.

The bartender places Edwards drink down in front of him.

“You mean me, right?” Roy asks as Edward drinks.

“No, I mean the closet of every general before you.” He says sarcastically.

Roy is quietly staring not sure he quite gets it.

“Yes, I mean you!” Edward exclaims.

It’s a strange thing to inquire about and he’s not sure why it’s even relevant enough to ask. He can’t recall a time where he wore a turtleneck but he also can’t recall ever being against wearing them so he just shrugs.

“Well I just assumed blue was your color.” It’s not. He’s tired of blue.

“Wait, why-”

“I’ll explain when we get back to your place.”  He downs the rest of his drink and shoves one of the brown bags in Roy’s hands. He scrambles to take hold of it. “Come on.” He says.

 

* * *

 

 

They get back and there are in fact three turtlenecks in the brown bag. They’re different shades of blue. He’s lost. He’s beyond confused and has no clue what this could possibly have to do with what they’re trying to do.

“Why do I need these?” He questions Edward with a distressed beat in his voice.

“To cover your neck.”

“No shit, Elric. _Why_ do I need to cover my neck?”

Edward is trifling through the second bag that Roy has yet to discover the contents of. He moves glass the vase of hellebores off the kitchen table and lays out a large white table-cloth. It seems plastic but looks flimsy like it can ripped easily. His mind hit a wall.

“Please tell me what you’re doing.”

“When do you expect the Lieutenant back?”

“A couple hours. She’s taken the train to Kissels outskirts.”

“Good.” He says, and pulls out several other things from the bag. “Because if we’re playing this whole secrets game, you’re not gonna want her around for this.”

Roy surveys the items. They look familiar like he’s seen them somewhere. Perhaps in a book, or a drawing.  And then it hits him that he _has_ seen it. It was the electrical device that Edwards’s father had sketched on the pages of his research notes. And it looks just as sharp as it did in the sketch.

Edward is pulling a surgical glove over his good hand, and then struggles to snap on the other.  It clicks into place what’s going on. Tarp. Gauze. Gloves. Conservative sweaters. _Needles._

“ _No, Edward!”_

“What?”

“We are _not doing_ this.”

“Backing out?” He challenges.

“You are _not tattooing_ me!”

“You seem adamant.” Edward says thoughtfully with a certain edge. Or perhaps it’s a façade. Edward has gotten slightly cryptic with age and dare he say, maybe even impulsive. He continues to set things out on the table as if Roy hadn’t refused at all. He adjusts the machine and lays out a small pot of ink. “I have a very steady hand if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That isn’t what he’s worried about. He doesn’t have a problem with Edward’s artistic ability or the steadiness of his hands. He’s probably brilliant. He shakes his head a little frantically. Edward senses a shift in his demeanor. It’s panic.

“The pain then? You don’t like needles.” He tries.

He shakes his head again. His head is pounding

“Mustang. What exactly do you want out of this?”

“I. I don’t.” They’re not full sentences. His breathing is labored and he can’t think straight. “I don’t know.”

“Hey, Hey, Calm down.” He says as gently as his nature allows him to.

“I _am calm_.” He practically yells.

“You’re not! Sit the fuck down. _Breathe_ you idiot!” He manhandles him into a chair. “Shit, what is _wrong_ with you?”

Roy huffs out a breath. It’s less harsh. Sitting down helps.

Edward doesn’t understand where his surprise is coming from because he _read_ the notes and he knows what they entail. This is not an unexpected endeavor. It’s quite literally embedded in the instructions of this whole experiment.

“The mustang I remember would dive right into this, head first, guns blazing.” He says with measured concern and mild disappointment.

He feels like maybe he could do this if Riza was here. If he knew that she supported the decision. And call him sentimental, but he wants her here _literally_ to hold his hand. He sighs audibly. He’s getting softer with age. He can’t help it.

“Okay. Okay.” Is all he says.

“Okay?” Edward raises a brow.

“I…” He swallows. “I’m just not feeling too hot right now. I want to wait until she’s back. I wanna tell her what we’re doing.”

“Are you sure that’s a good-”

“I’m wasting my time. Not opening up to her. Remember?” He quotes.

“Okay that is _not_ what I meant.”

“What’s wrong fullmetal?” He smirks, getting some of himself back, “Afraid it’s gonna jeopardize your little project?”

He narrows his eyes. “Don’t patronize me. You’re not my guinea pig. You we’re just as eager to see this through as I am if not more so. And it’s up to you,” He says as an afterthought, “It’s your body. I would just hate for your decisions to be influenced because of guilt.

“I’ll do it. But not until Riza knows.”

“Fair enough.” Edward sighs and pulls off the gloves. He curses as one of the gloves rip. He’d only bought one pair. It gets a laugh out of Roy. He feels better. Sort of.

“So a transmutation circle then?” He asks Edward, “On my neck? I thought I didn’t need one.” As far as he knows, he doesn’t need one anymore. He only keeps the gloves as a comfort. He’s used to it.

“Two circles. One on each side.”

Roy groans.

“The opposing circles will centralize the energy to the space, making it interchangeable. Since the space is internal, you have to protect your body from the potential damages. The circles are slightly altered. There’s a fallback in their design.” Edward begins to draw quickly on the paper that he already had set out on the table to show Roy what he means. He points.

“This is how we keep you from spontaneously combusting.”

“Comforting.” Roy retorts.

“Once you’ve harnessed the energy sufficiently in the centralized area, the oxidation is _slow_. Much slower than you’re used to.  But with practice this process will take you less time. Once you’ve accomplished oxidation you release the energy _fast_. It can go one of two ways, very successful or. Well. It’s gotta go somewhere. Preferably up. I don’t really know the potential outcomes of the reverse effect.”

Roy blinks at him a few times. “Are you telling me I’m _literally_ in danger of potentially shitting fire?” He deadpans.

“In theory.” He stifles a laugh.

“Not funny.”

“No,” He composes himself. “Of course not.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Roy gets up to away the sweaters that may or may not come in handy and then comes back to the table and sits quietly across from Edward. They don’t bother putting anything away. The cats about to be out of the bag pretty Soon. Edward looks like he wants to ask something but is hesitant to do so.

“What is it?” Roy urges him. “Just spit it out.”

“Heh...” Edward’s eyes are downcast. “You’ve been uncharacteristically emotional about this. Not that it’s a bad thing.”

“I don’t know what to say.” He mumbles. “You’ve been gone a while.”

“I guess…”

“Do you have pictures?” Roy asks.

“Of what?”

“Your kids.” He says encouragingly.

Edward’s eyes light up. “Hell yes I do.”

He laughs as Edward scrambles to fish them out of his belongings. He shows Roy the photos with a permanent smile plastered to his face. He’s glad that Edward gets to have that genuine happiness that he deserves. Finally.

And then the bitter selfish part of his being invades his train of thought and makes him wonder if he’ll ever have that genuine happiness as well.

With that person that makes him feel safer than anyone else in the world.

That person that he’s waiting to see come through the door of their home so he can tell her the truth. And hopefully get nothing but her support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think!


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